


Bless your lucky star

by Aisjustrunning



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, Fluff without Plot, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 11:56:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5374424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aisjustrunning/pseuds/Aisjustrunning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack drives to Samwell to celebrate Christimas with the Boys. A Christmas decoration war between he and Bittle just sort of happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bless your lucky star

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seasaltinecrackers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasaltinecrackers/gifts).



> Merry Christmas, happy Hanukkah, Yuletide, 'swawesome Santa, or just winter break, seasaltinecrackers! I went for your first request of "fluffy Jack/Bitty" and I hope you enjoy this!
> 
> I took the idea of the decoration war from [ this post on tumblr](http://justaboofish.tumblr.com/post/129588948187/christmas-writing-prompt/).
> 
> Thanks to Schuyler and sunfair for organising this exchange, to [Gemma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gelowo93/pseuds/gelowo93) for the beta and to [Trenna](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mandralyne) for the Canandian pick.

The Haus already feels festive when Jack parks his truck on the road. There’s some snow on the porch roof and lights hanging down from it, twinkling in the soft light of a cloudy winter morning. Bittle must have already started decorating for the Christmas dinner he’s throwing for the team before they all head home for the holidays.

Jack won’t be able to go home this year; the Falconers' schedule just doesn’t allow for it. He has an off day today, practice tomorrow evening, game in three days, Christmas off and game again on the 27 th . However, his parents had said they would come down from Montreal to stay with him in Providence for a few days and watch him play so he wouldn’t be on his own for the whole festive period.

He’s grateful for his parents coming down for Christmas, even if he still feels a pang of anxiety every time he thinks about his father seeing him play. He’s even more glad he’s getting to have this evening with his friends, and his boyfriend - he still shivers a bit just thinking the word; Bittle is his _boyfriend_. It’s not as if Jack doesn’t see Bittle often: he drives to Samwell on most off days and Bittle goes to Providence at least one weekend a month and some game days. But it never feels like it’s enough; those visits always leave him wanting more: more time, more pie, more Bittle.

Jack is still a bit mad at himself for waiting so long, for letting time go by without making a move on Bittle, _wasting_ their time together at Samwell, their time living together, for waiting until he was in Providence, high on his first win with the Falconers, to tell Bittle how he felt.

It doesn’t matter, now. What does matter is that he’s here at Samwell, with some time for Bittle, some time for his friends, and some time to, at Bittle's request, help decorate the Haus.

He climbs the porch steps, duffel bag slung on his shoulder, and when he opens the door, he’s greeted with the sound of some Christmas-y pop song he recalls having heard before and the sight of Bittle's butt more or less at eye level. It’s a nice butt; Bittle has obviously been working on his squats again.

Bittle looks back over his shoulder from up the chair where he’s trying to hang something glittery from the ceiling.

“Oh, you’re here already!” Bitty says, all broad smile and huge eyes, dropping the glittery thing and climbing down the chair to bounce over to Jack, who leaves the bag on the floor and hugs him tight, pressing a kiss to Bittle's hair. It’s growing a bit long again.

“Hi,” Jack whispers.

Bittle takes a step back to look at Jack’s face for a second before moving forward again and capturing Jack’s lips in his. It’s a sweet, short kiss, one Bittle breaks quickly.

“We should really… mhm--” Bittle looks like he has to make an effort to find the words. Jack is not sorry at all for distracting him by drawing circles on Bittle's neck with the tips of his fingers. “--decorate. Yes. Before the rest of the boys come back from class. Shitty’s coming too, but he'll probably be a bit late.”

“Ok. Just a second, though,” Jack says, kissing Bittle again, showing no intention of actually moving. “How have you been? How is everybody?”

“Fine, relaxed now that finals are over, most of them. Last days before the holidays, so it won't take long for them to come back. You should have come last week when we celebrated Hanukkah. I even managed to get Holster's mother's recipe for latkes.”

“I had a game, Bittle.”

“I know, I know. It was fun, but it would have been better with you here. Even Johnson texted! He said he was glad we were being so inclusive, and that people on the Internet were saying that I was a well-rounded three dimensional character. I have no idea what he meant by that, or how he knew about Hanukkah unless he follows me on Twitter...”

“I really wish I had been here.” Jack caresses Bittle's face.

“C'mon, Jack.”

“Ok, _d'accord_. I'm going. But I'll be back in a second.”

“And you'll actually help me decorate.”

“I'll actually help you decorate.”

“Good. Now go.”

Jack climbs the stairs up to Bittle's room. He only hesitates slightly in the hall, standing between Bittle's room and his old room. After all, that room was his home for most of his college life, there's some instinct in him to open that door, some muscle memory.

He shakes it off and opens the door to Bittle's room. It looks like it always has: bed made, laptop on the table, Señor Bunny peeking out from under a pillow. There's a new Beyoncé poster, but Bitty had already shown him that the last time they skyped, so no surprise there.

Jack doesn't stay there long. He dumps his bag on the bed and goes back downstairs, where he finds Bitty, once again standing on a chair, with the glittery things that Jack can see now are stars. There’s a box full of them on the floor next to the chair, and Jack grabs a few and some scotch tape and starts sticking some stars to the walls.

They work for a while in silence with only Christmas music between them. Sometimes Bittle would break the silence by singing along and moving to the beat of the music - not fully dancing, but almost. They talk often enough that they don't really need to catch up on news, and it hasn't been so long since they last saw each other, but they move around bumping into each other, their hands brushing when they both reach for the box of stars, as if their bodies were trying to make excuses for them to touch. It's nice, and relaxed, and easy, and Jack enjoys it a lot.

He hangs several glittery stars before actually looking at them. They look really nice, if a bit irregular, enough that it's clear they are not shop-bought.

“These are pretty,” he tells Bittle, holding up two. “Did you make them?”

“Well...” Bittle turns around to look at him from where he is on top of the chair, now at a different corner of the room. “Lardo helped me with the shapes, and she let me in one of the art studios to glue the glitter without covering everything in my life in glitter... not that it mattered. Look at this place, there's glitter all over this place...”

Bittle raises his hands then; they’re covered in glitter. Jack looks down at his own hands to find that his are covered in glitter, too. He shakes them, trying to get some of the glitter off but it doesn’t work.

“I didn't know you were this good at crafts,” he says, examining one of the stars closely.

“I have many talents and y'all should appreciate it! Really, there are many things I can do with my hands besides baking.”

“I know there are _many_ things you can do with your hands, Bittle,” Jack can't help saying, voice filled with innuendo, jokingly waggling his eyebrows.

Bittle takes a moment to get it, but when does he turns red in a second, the blush spreading through his face and down his neck to beneath his sweater. It's cute how easily Bittle blushes. The day Jack discovered that the blush continued way down Bittle's neck was certainly a good day.

“Oh my goodness, Jack, you did not!”

Before Jack can say a word, something soft hits him in the head.

Bittle had thrown a star at him. Several, actually. Jack stares at him in surprise. He was lucky that all but one missed their target and landed on the floor instead. He can feel the glitter on his face, and is quite sure his hair is sparkling silver right now, too.

“Bittle!” Jack shouts using his captain voice. “You threw three stars and only managed to hit me with one! Clear sign you need to work on your shot!

The next two stars hit him straight in the face, so Jack does what any normal person would do, instead of doing what his inner captain wants to do and praise Bittle for his aim: grabs a few stars from the floor, throws them in Bittle's general direction, and runs for cover. He hides behind the fancy new couch Bittle urged the boys to buy to replace the old nasty one.

He catches his breath and, when he peaks over the back of the sofa, Bittle isn’t where he left him. In fact, he's nowhere to be seen.

Suddenly, he feels his hoodie being stretched from the hood and something scratchy falls down his back.

“Gotcha!” Bittle shouts from behind Jack, laughing while still stretching Jack's hoodie. Jack wriggles a bit to make the stars fall from inside his clothes and turns to face Bittle. There's glitter _everywhere_. Bittle's hair is covered in silver bits shimmering under the den's light. His face is red, and his eyes are shining from laughing.

“You got me,” Jack says, softly. He reaches out to touch Bittle's glitter covered face. “You’ve got a spot of glitter here.”

Bittle laughs again. “You have spots of glitter _everywhere,”_ he replies, but he puts his hand over Jack's. “And bless your heart, Jack, stop calling me Bittle! It's weird.”

“Ok. Eric?” Jack says. The name feels wrong, the _r_ rolling on his tongue. “Bitty?”

“Bitty is fine. Anything but Bittle. Or Richard. Do not call me Richard.”

“I won't. Bitty.” _Bitty_ feels a bit weird, too, but he can get used to it. “Back to more pressing matters. You have glitter here.”

His hand is still on Bitty's cheek, under Bitty's hand, so he chooses another spot on Bitty's face and kisses him there.

“And here.” This time, Jack kisses Bitty's forehead. “There really is glitter everywhere.”

However, Jack skips many glitter spots and goes directly to Bitty's lips. Bitty parts them immediately in a gasp and Jack makes the most of the chance by licking Bitty's lips, lightly at first, then more insistent until he has his tongue in Bitty's mouth. The kiss turns heated quickly after that.

Bitty doesn't stay still for too long. He moves his hand from over Jack's, and puts both hands on Jack's waist without breaking the kiss. In no time he has them on Jack's skin, and Jack shivers at the contact, even if Bitty's hands are warm. Jack's thankful for Bitty's warmth.

The kiss isn’t a short one this time, Jack and Bitty both leaning comfortably into each other, touching, kissing. Jack can feels Bitty's fingers on his waist, his abs. There's glitter there, too, and it scratches a bit, but not enough to bother him.

It's Bitty who breaks the kiss, laughing softly. “It's actually you who is completely covered in glitter.”

“And whose fault is that?” Jack asks, without any actual heat to his words.

He doesn't get to hear what Bitty would have answered to that, because in that moment they hear the door of the Haus being opened. They have no time to make this look better, and Jack doesn’t care, really. Anyone coming into the Haus for the Christmas dinner already knows about them. So they stay where they are, Bitty's hands still under Jack's hoodie, faces millimeters from each other, foreheads almost touching, lips red and shiny.

Seconds later, Chowder bursts into the room. “Bitty! Hi! Oh! Jack, you're-- “ he stops dead in his tracks the moment he takes in the scene in front of him. “Uh. I... I'll just go now.”

Jack turns his head just in time to see the back of a Sharks Niemi jersey walking out. Poor kid must not be over Niemi's trade yet. He feels a bit bad for him.

“We've traumatized the poor frog,” Bitty says, looking at where Chowder was a moment ago.

“He's not a frog anymore, Bitty.”

“Ssh, I don't care. He'll be my frog forever.”

Jack can't help finding it cute, how much Bitty cares for everyone on the team. For everybody he likes, really.

“I should go bring him back inside, though. Did you see what he was wearing? Just a jersey! He's going to freeze out there!”

Ok, definitely less cute when Bitty's caring threatens to cut their make-out session short, but Jack understands him. Well, he doubts Chowder would freeze to death at 4ºC, Jack would almost call this warm for Christmas time, but he doesn't want to upset Bitty, and Chowder could catch a cold, which would be bad for the team even if they don't have games during Christmas. He may not play with them anymore, but they're still _his_ team; he wants them to do well. He stands up and holds Bitty's hands to help him do the same.

They walk to the door, hand in hand, until Bitty untangles their fingers to jump down the porch steps. Jack leans against the door frame while he watches Bitty run after Chowder. He isn’t dressed for the weather either, neither of them is, but they'll be back in the Haus soon. He stays there while Bitty catches up to Chowder, watching how Bitty talks animatedly to the kid, probably reassuring him it's ok to come back, he guesses. Maybe promising him pie; that strategy always works for Bitty.

He looks as Bitty and Chowder start making their way back to the Haus, and he can't help thinking how glad he is that he came here for the early Christmas dinner. He's so glad he made it to where he is today, even if the road wasn't always easy, even if he fell and stumbled over along the way. He's so glad he found Bitty, or rather, that Bitty found him. He's glad and thankful about many things this year. He's just really happy with how his life is right now.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you really much for reading. Come chat to me on [tumblr](http://ilovetextingandscones.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/agente_ana/) about these dumb boys and how much they love each other if you want :)


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